


Rocking Chair

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Acceptance, Character Death, Death, Death from Old Age, Family, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Loss, Love, M/M, Old Age, Old Married Couple, Pets, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 03:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1250863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve copes with the first wedding anniversary without Tony. </p><p>In memory of my grandfather. Love you and miss you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rocking Chair

Steve stood on the curb in front of his favorite restaurant, leaning on his cane. He’d filled up on chocolate mousse pie- Tony’s favorite- and now he was indulging in an after dinner cigarette. He never tried to justify the behavior to himself; it was a habit leftover from his army days. Steve was well aware that it wasn’t healthy for him and there was certainly the likelihood that he’d get cancer. So be it. He was responsible for his own actions, after all, and he accepted the consequences.

Tony used to chide him for it. Steve knew it was out of love, but he never did quit. Now Tony was no longer there to get on his case, and he missed it. Today would have been their fortieth anniversary. Tony had died a year before, thankfully from natural causes.To cope, Steve went to their favorite diner and ate an entire pie by himself. He knew that’s what Tony would’ve wanted. On their anniversary that’s what the two men used to do and Steve always enjoyed their tradition.

It was difficult getting used to Tony being gone. They’d spent so much time together that it was difficult for Steve to reconnect with the world outside. Living by himself was terribly lonely. His three children were living all over the country and couldn’t come see him often. His two daughters called several times a week, however, and that helped some. Steve didn’t hear much from his son though; he was having a difficult time dealing with Tony’s death and he couldn’t bring himself to face his surviving parent. Steve understood and respected his son’s need for distance, though it stung from time to time.

He finished his cigarette, put it out and threw it in the garbage. Steve slowly walked down the street, relying on his cane to keep him upright.

 

***

 

When he got home, Steve sat down in his favorite arm chair and looked at the rocking chair adjacent to him. It was Tony’s favorite chair and coincidentally where he took his final breaths. The sound of FOX news and Tony’s raised voice flooded Steve’s ears. He remembered the way Tony used to sit in his rocker and yell at the television. It was a habit that Steve hated, but he got used to it in time. That’s just how Tony was. He had his faults, Steve had his. Their relationship was challenging at times, and Steve always reminded people that marriage was a full time job. In his mind, anyone who believed marriage was perfect read too many romance novels and fluffy fan fiction.

Every once in a while Steve felt like giving up, but he took an antidepressant and invited a friend over whenever he felt that way. Steve wasn’t going to be one of those people who died of a broken heart. That was a silly romantic notion only meant for love stories marketed for young girls. Dying because he missed someone was foolish, and as a realist Steve accepted life went on without Tony.

Steve still hadn’t touched Tony’s chair since he died, with the exception of an occasional dusting. He didn’t allow anyone to sit on it. The thought of someone sitting in the seat his husband occupied was simply profane. It had become sacred to Steve. It was one of the few remaining places where Steve still felt Tony’s presence.

He sighed and picked up a book from the end table beside his chair. Steve read when he wanted to forget. Midnight, the cat his youngest daughter adopted to keep him company, curled up on his lap and quickly went to sleep. As Steve read he petted Midnight’s long black fur, remembering for a brief moment the way Tony’s hair felt beneath his fingertips.

 

***

 

The grandfather clock began to ring, and Steve looked up from his novel. It was ten p.m. and time for bed. He gently set Midnight on the ground before reaching for his cane.

Midnight jumped up on the bed as Steve slowly tucked himself into bed. He turned his head and leaned over toward the bedside table to his left.

"Goodnight, Tony,” Steve said softly. He kissed the urn containing his husband’s remains and turned out the lights.


End file.
